Second Best
by Undead Prowess
Summary: It's been several years since the show ended. Sector D was at the heart of a grisly failed mission two years back when Numbuh 612 in command-and the only reason she is still an operative is because wiser-than-his-years Numbuh 287 fought for her... but only so she could, at least until she was thirteen, live in the agony of her failure. But what happens when circumstances...change?
1. Little Talks

_**Second Best**_

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><p><em><strong>Little Talks<strong>_

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><p>"Numbuh 287! Numbuh 287! Wake up!"<p>

Thunders and crashes roared from the rest of the treehouse. Numbuh 287 blinked the sleep from his eyes quickly, leaping to his feet. Someone had banged on his door and yelled for him to get up. He quickly glanced out his window to see the sky was still dark. Only the beginnings of dawn were beginning to fracture the darkness outside. This wasn't the first time somebody had attacked the Sector D treehouse in the early mornings, but it wasn't exactly a common occurrence. If Numbuh 439 had been sleeping in his watch again, the Sector D leader would have to give a harsh warning. He tossed away his nightclothes-there was no time for modesty-and ran over to his dresser. He threw open the drawers and quickly found his jumpsuit behind his top drawer.

It was dark gray with blue bands around the wrist, ankles, and waist. He quickly found gloves to protect his hands and bolted over to his closet to find his boots. He never let his closet get but so messy, and would definitely never let it turn into the massive cesspool the Closet Cleaning Committee had to deal with. He found his shiny, black boots easily. He slipped them on and snatched up a M.U.S.K.E.T. The mustard gun had been the only thing close enough for him to grab before throwing himself out the door and into the fray. His vision was momentarily blurred as he looked around the wooden hallway. He was confused at first; there were definitely noises coming from downstairs, but it sounded like someone else was much closer. He turned to run down the stairwell.

Something splattered against his arm, and an explosion went off to his right. He was tossed back against the wall. Groaning, he looked around, his vision blurred completely. His arm was coated in a red substance. One whiff was enough to prove it was ketchup, and he assumed a R.O.L.L.A.S.K.A.T.E. had gone haywire or had gotten misdirected in the midst of battle. That was, until something hit him in the head. He coughed and spluttered, hitting yet another wall. He shook his already-painful head vigorously, staggering to his feet. Looking around, he spotted his M.U.S.K.E.T. in someone else's hands. Numbuh 612 had it in her hands, and was firing it at something down the hallway. A cut above her eye had blood leaking down her face.

Numbuh 287 had seen much worse. He leapt to his black-haired operative's defense. He pulled the M.U.S.K.E.T. from her hands, and saw what she had been firing at. He would say who, but to him, Big Brother was more beast than human. The oversized teenager obscured the treehouse walls, pressing them outwards and cracking the wood. _This will take ages for even Numbuh 439 to fix!_ Numbuh 287 thought ruefully.

"Numbuh 287! Give me back my M.U.S.K.E.T.!" Numbuh 612 cried from behind him. "I don't have any other weapons! I'm defenseless!"

He promptly ignored her. Anyway, this was HIS weapon. What was she talking about? He blasted the gun away at Big Brother, even if he could tell it didn't do much. At the most, it annoyed him. Mustard coated his red and white striped shirt and clumped his blond hair together. One of his eyes was puffy, as though somebody had gotten something in it. Numbuh 439 suddenly came running from between his legs. He scrambled past the monster and shoved a S.C.A.M.P.P. in Numbuh 612's hands. She glared at Numbuh 287, and then took aim at Big Brother.

Numbuh 239 was skinny and short, with blond hair so pale some thought it was white. He ducked behind them both and ran to a computer embedded into the wall, and began typing furiously. "Anytime now!" Numbuh 287 yelled back at him. He was grouchy as it was. A leader needed his beauty sleep and waking up to a hulking teenager squeezing his way through his treehouse was not his ideal plan for mornings. He and Numbuh 612 both took aim at the same time. Big Brother roared like a demon and smashed away an entire wall on his left side. Daylight from outside wound its way inside the dimly-lit treehouse. It was now dawn. "On my signal, fire!" Numbuh 287 snarled.

"Okay," Numbuh 612 agreed. She had to scream her answer above the noise to be heard. Her sleek, gray and black helmet had since been thrown off her head. Her black hair flew madly in the swirling air as Big Brother thrashed, trying to stay in the treehouse, and at the same time, tearing away more of it.

"NOW!"

The laserbeam and the generous squirt of mustard was enough to send Big Brother toppling out of the treehouse. The ground gave a violet tremor as Numbuh 287 assumed the oversized teenager hit the ground. Taking deep breaths, he turned to the other operatives. "What in Moono's name is GOING ON HERE?" He demanded. "And where are the other two?" He whirled and turned on Numbuh 612 in particular. "Was this your fault?"

She stood tall, ignoring his authority by not dipping her head to him as field operatives were taught to do as common courtesy to sector leaders. Instead, she stood stiff as a board, as though she were the leader. How defiant of her. "Actually, no, Numbuh 287. Numbuh 439 forgot to turn on our defense grid. We were left completely open to attack." She eased her posture, but did not lower her head. He decided he would do that for her.

Numbuh 287 touched the top of her head and forced it down to face him. "Show some respect," he hissed at her, "I am your leader and the only reason you're even still an operative."

She met his gaze with a quiet fury. "Like I should thank you for the second half of that."

He turned away from her, but made sure to step on her boot. She yelped and jumped back. Numbuh 439 was typing away madly on the computer that was embedded in the wall. Numbuh 287 walked over to him and set a hand on his shoulder. "So, you left us defenseless, is that it? You do know how long it will take us to repair our treehouse, right? I'm surprised this wing is even still attached!"

Numbuh 439 sighed. "I know, Numbuh 287," he nervously ran a hair through his pale hair. "I'll set our defense grid back up and ask for a few extra operatives from the Moonbase to come and help repair it. I'll have it fixed as soon as possible, sir," he said, dipping his head in acknowledgment of Numbuh 287's presence. "The Supreme Leader has already been notified. I thought Big Brother stopped terrorizing kids a couple years back and wouldn't he be an adult by now?"

"I always did say he was more beast than human," Numbuh 287 muttered.

"Alright! Who left me locked down in the bunkers!?" Numbuh 287 shivered as Numbuh 231 shouted, running through the hallway. Before he could say anything, the hotheaded operative jumped across the missing part of the hallway, landing easily on the other side. She put her hands on her hips and looked around at them. "Well?!" She had red-orange hair and a temper to be reckoned with. Numbuh 287 used to think she was related to Numbuh 86, but now it was a running joke within the group that she was somehow related to the old Head of Decommissioning. Numbuh 86's decommissioning was welcome by many members of the Kids Next Door, but Numbuh 287 had always liked her.

Numbuh 439 stammered. "I-I did it on accident, Numbuh 231," he laughed nervously. "Big Brother was coming and I didn't know you were inside. When I shut all the steel doors on lockdown I must have not seen you inside. Where's Numbuh 875?"

"Here," a quiet boy stepped into view. His brown hair washed over his eyes and he was much taller than the others. Despite being eleven, he towered over Numbuh 287. It didn't daunt the Sector D leader in the slightest, however. Numbuh 875 was, by nature, a follower, and never defiant. He was the tactician and diversionary expert of the group. Numbuh 287 nodded to him and he dipped his head back. He turned back to Numbuh 612 instead.

She had her hands behind her back this time, looking as though she had them linked together. She was looking at her feet, which she had pressed so close together she looked imbalanced. She must have found her knight-like, black and gray helmet again, because it was on her head. He walked up close to her and whispered to her. "You should thank me. Because of me, you get another chance to prove yourself. If I hadn't done what I did, you would have been forever remembered among kids everywhere as nothing more than a coward, and a murderer. After all, your actions were the cause of my older brother going 'missing'." With that, he stalked away from her. "Numbuh 439! Finish getting our defenses up and tell those extra agents to get here quickly! I don't like having a hole in my treehouse!"

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><p><strong>As a fair warning, if you're not familiar with me, I used to go by the name Numbuh 94 (and will say "Numbuh 94, over and out" a lot). This is an idea I was playing with a lot. There has to be a darker side to the KND-it's a militaristic organization, even if it is with kids. Surely there have been dangerous and failed missions before with rather grisly results. Look at the huge crashes and explosions in the show. We know that nothing bad is shown because it's a TV show meant for children, but think about those things realistically (with the KND spin on it, of course, I mean take away th<em>e <em>cartoony 'nobody gets hurt' atmosphere).**

**Anyway, this is _Second Best,_ my first KND fic in a while. Stay tuned folks! Also, I do write many Skylanders stories if you're a fan of that.**

**EDIT: feel free to tell me of any mistakes you see! I am more than willing to edit. :)**


	2. Alone With a Thought

_**Alone With A Thought**_

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><p>This mission hadn't even been her fault, and yet, she had still gotten the brunt of Numbuh 287's rage... Numbuh 612 didn't sigh. That would probably attract his attention again. He had disappeared back into his room, but it was deathly quiet inside and his door was cracked. The wooden door had the number 287 scrawled across it in green paint. The room appeared dark, as though no lights or only one light were on inside. Numbuh 612 turned around only to find Numbuh 231 staring her down. The redheaded operative marched up to her and looked her over. "You look afraid. What, Big Brother scare you?" Numbuh 231 gave an awfully wicked smile and walked past her. The walk quickly turned into a sprint as she ran towards the hole in the floor, and then jumped across it.<p>

She then dared to sigh and walk towards Numbuh 439. "Who are the repair operatives?" She asked, forcing her voice to have a bit of conviction in it. As much as Numbuh 287's words cut her, she was still second-in-command, whether he liked it or not. That immediately placed her over the other operatives, and made her just under Numbuh 287 in terms of hierarchy. Besides, Numbuh 439 had never openly been aggressive towards her like Numbuh 287 and Numbuh 231 were. He looked back at her and gave the slightest smile he could manage.

"Nobody we particularly know," he assured her. "And you know Numbuh 287 will make sure they leave you alone."

"Only so he can have the glory of degrading me himself," she heaved another sigh.

Numbuh 439 put a hand on her shoulder. "I know how he is to you... you were eight in that mission. It was a big, scary mission for an eight-year-old," he assured her. Numbuh 439 was ten, as was Numbuh 612. She would have referred to him by his real name, RJ, if not for standard policies of the Kids Next Door. As second-in-command, she was supposed to be as businesslike as possible. She was so used to it, mostly because most kids refused to give her even a chance due to her cowardice two years back, that she wasn't even sure if she should anymore. Her real name was Maryanne Crowley. She was widely known among the Kids Next Door as the worst leader to ever step up to the plate.

Two years ago, she had led Sector D-consisting of the same members now as it did then, as well as Numbuh 287's older brother, Numbuh 299-into a mission against a villain known only as Bones. He was suspected of creating something new for cafeterias all around the world, but just as disgusting as every other cafeteria food ever made, probably worse. Two other sectors had also been called to the mission-the new members of Sector V (the last generation that had been led by Numbuh 1, the best Kids Next Door leader, had all been decommissioned as they had all turned thirteen, with the exception of Numbuh 5, who had become Supreme Leader) and Sector H. The sectors, despite being located so far away, had been brought together due to their unique but extreme skills. The mission would have been a success... until Numbuh 299 was obstructed and a mechanical dog chased her out of the Bones' house. The machine animal had snarled and snapped at her and nearly torn her jumpsuit she had been wearing off. She had fled and hadn't returned.

When she was found, she was told Numbuh 299 never returned, and the mission had failed. The other members of the mission had all sustained bad wounds from the battle as well. Numbuh 287, second-in-command at the time, had been ordered by the Supreme Leader to bring her to face her fate with an audience of all Kids Next Door members from all around the world. She had been petrified, and had tried to run away, but Numbuh 287 was furious about his lost brother. He had been more than happy to drag her there, and throw her on stage in front of thousands of kids who would have loved to rip her to pieces. Numbuh 5 was the Kids Next Door Supreme Leader. She was fair to Numbuh 612, if she had to describe how she was treated by her, though she obviously held back her own rage. Numbuh 612 was kept on stage, standing between Numbuh 5 and Numbuh 86 (she was twelve at the time and had since been decommissioned).

In front of the entire organization, the kids who had all been on the mission had testified and given their stories about what had happened that mission. None left out the fact she had run away. To them, she was a ridiculous coward, and deserved decommissioning. Many wondered how she had become Sector D's leader in the first place. Then Numbuh 287 had stepped forward.

"I know Sector D's leader has made poor choices and made my sector out to be a bunch of cowards," he spoke, "but what's the point in decommissioning her? Let her stay as my second-in-command. Let me take her place. Give her the chance to prove she isn't a coward."

Then she had believed it was possible he really was trying to help her. She snorted. She should have known better. Numbuh Five had listened to him, and agreed, as long as she made no major mission choices. Any future failures at her hand would result in her immediate decommissioning. She sighed and walked out of the room through another passage. She didn't want to face scrutinizing, Moonbase-trained operatives. They were all condescending to her, and they would be no different.

She entered her room through a wooden door with the number 612 scribbled in red on it. "Coward" and "failure" were also scratched on here and there. Home sweet home. She didn't even mind the mess everywhere. It was common practice, seeing as Numbuh 231 loved coming in and destroying the place. Numbuh 612 shut the door behind her and locked it. She had no interest in meeting anybody unless necessary.

She sucked in a deep breath and collapsed onto her thrashed bed. Covers were strewn about. Pillows laid this way and that. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath, except this one was much slower.

She must have fallen asleep, for she woke up to shouts of her codename and someone banging on her door wildly. She nearly jumped out of her skin once she realized it was Numbuh 287, and he wasn't happy. "Numbuh 612!" He bellowed, "Get up! Numbuh 5 has been decommissioned and a new Supreme Leader must be chosen!" She simply adored how gently he explained everything. She leaped to her feet. Numbuh 5? Decommissioned? Was this a joke? When did she turn thirteen? Another thought was running wild in her mind.

What if I get tagged at the last second? Only foolish Kids Next Door operatives believed they wouldn't get tagged. Any kid with an IQ over six knew Supreme Leaderness was no coveted job. It meant no more hands-on missions and a lot, a LOT of demanding kids to deal with. she shook her shock away, and forced herself to get dressed in a different set of clothes. She looked cool and sleek in her blue and silver jumpsuit getup. To most operatives, she was no better than scum and so shouldn't appear better than scum.

She instead put on a gray sweatshirt with jeans, yet retained her helmet. As dishonorable as so many believed her to be, her helmet defined her. Even as terribly as she was despised, she would always bear her codename and appearance to anyone who wanted to know if they didn't recognize her.

But Numbuh 5's decommissioning was still a shock. She was sure Numbuh 3350 wasn't happy about that. The new Head of Decommissioning did not seem to enjoy his job at all, but then again, Numbuh 86 had seemed to be the only operative ever to enjoy wiping her teammates' memories. She left her room and found herself facing her Sector D comrades, as well as several other operatives she had never seen before.

They all looked rather boring except for a short, blond-haired boy in a golden-yellow hoodie with black markings at the bottom. He noticed her staring and said, "What? Nevah seen a Sector V operative before?" Ashamed, she quickly looked away.

"Steady, Numbuh 444," Numbuh 287 warned. "She's my second in command."

She felt like slapping him. This was how it was; around other operatives, he played with her, pretending to protect her. Then, he would exploit her weaknesses and make her sound like she couldn't do things on her own.

Numbuh 287 continued. "Let's go. We shouldn't keep Numbuh 3350 waiting," he mused, ushering them through a half-repaired treehouse hallway. Numbuh 612 lagged behind. She could already tell this wouldn't end well. Numbuh 444, of who she assumed to be Numbuh 4's younger brother, Joey, would cast her critical and studying glances here and there. He had to be a new operative, as she hadn't seen him before now.

If that were the case, she wanted to lag further, and out of his view. New recruits were always desperate to get the attention of more veteran operatives-that meant if an older operative said she was a coward, she was a coward. And he seemed bad-tempered as it were.

She was snapped at by Numbuh 231 to keep up and bolted ahead. The last thing she wanted was Numbuh 231 chewing her out here.


End file.
